Reflections
by GhostWriterLost
Summary: She's standing at the window, looking at the spring rain, wondering how she got here, or rather, how they got here, as she didn't do it alone.


_a/n: For the first time I'm using names, so I figure it's time for the disclaimer: They aren't mine, just borrowing them for a while. If they were mine, things would be simpler, their timing would be better and TV wouldn't be as good._

**Reflections **

She's standing at the window, looking at the spring rain glaze the city streets and coat the yellow cabs, wondering how she got here, or rather, how they got here, as she didn't do it alone.

She's been independent for so long. She's relied only on herself since her parents were taken from her - one ripped away by violence, the other dissolved by grief and alcohol. She learned her lesson well: needing means hurt. So she, like Rudyard Kipling's cat, 'walks by herself' with grace and style – alone.

But now she feels hollow, as if you tapped her there would be an echo someplace deep. There's something missing in a place she can't identify. She knows what's gone, or rather who. And she curses him – and herself.

He's gone to London "to promote the latest Nikki Heat." She knows that that isn't the whole story. It is a lie by omission and they've both done that too often to each other not to recognize the sin.

Things were different after the bomb episode. Even when they were alone together there were other voices, other conversations going on. She didn't tell him she could still feel their kiss and how he held her in the freezer. He didn't tell her that he hadn't slept the whole night through for a month, because every time he closed his eyes he saw her, _felt her_, die in his arms. He pretended he wasn't hurt by her being with Josh; she pretended she didn't see his pain. But they knew.

She didn't tell him when she and Josh agreed that they were perfect, but just not for each other. He didn't tell her that Lanie had slipped and let that secret out. She pretended Lanie hadn't confessed. But they knew.

The conversations they weren't having got louder and longer than the ones they did. And the distance between them grew.

She broke first. They'd been driving across town with Esposito and Ryan in the car. Ryan had won the rock, paper, scissors challenge for shotgun (after she'd vetoed the spitting contest – Castle's first suggestion.) They were all teasing Ryan about the upcoming wedding and the banter turned to who was escorting whom to the event. Esposito asked if Beckett were bringing a 'hot date' and as she replied 'Always' she caught Castle's eye in the mirror. The flash of unfiltered emotion was there only for a moment, but still was too long for her to bury with the rest of the unsaid.

And now he's gone. "Paula and Gina ganged up and are forcing me to go." His words, not hers, given only after she finally tracked him down 'doing research' in the file room. She might have believed him had he been able to look her in the eye.

He's learned from last time and he texts the boys every day, but they don't share the details. (The boys have decided she doesn't need to know that most of the texts are about her.) Ryan sends chatty messages back, saying nothing about Beckett, trying to protect her. Esposito responds the same way each time: "Get your ass back here, she needs you." Castle is nothing if not consistent. He pretends he hasn't gotten Esposito's messages.

He sends her bright, brittle emails filled with mannered observations that sound like Oscar Wilde (or maybe Martha) but not the Castle she's missing. She tries for breezy, but only manages to be brittle in return.

The echo gets deeper. Her river of denial ("He'll be back soon and everything will be fine.") runs quietly through her days and nights. The boys bring her coffee and food and wonder if she eats or sleeps much at all. They wince in unison as she says "I'm fine" for the thousandth time.

The deceptive calm persists until Alexis blows into the precinct late one morning and insists that Kate go with her for lunch. She's a Castle through and through, so Kate doesn't really get a chance to say no, before Alexis has Kate's jacket in her arms and is pushing her towards the elevator.

Alexis clearly has something bottled up; she practically vibrates with it. Kate is a little alarmed as they walk to a nearby diner, but she's afraid to do anything other than try to make small talk – and fails miserably. Fortunately, Alexis again proves she is her father's daughter. They haven't quite settled into their booth at the diner when Alexis burst out "why does Dad say he's staying on in London for a few more weeks? He said he needs space and time to think." As Kate gapes at her, she continues "I know he loves you. So what's to think about?"

Kate drops into the booth, stunned at Alexis' comments and at the possibility he might not be coming back. She scrambles to say something, anything to answer Alexis and ward off her own rising panic. All she can find is what she said to Jordan Shaw last year. "It's complicated," she begins, before Alexis cuts her off, shocking Kate again.

"No, it's not. He loves you and I think you love him. You do, don't you? It's real. He knows it; I know it; Gram knows it. What else is there?"

Kate is beginning to wonder if she will ever remember how to speak or, for that matter, how to breathe, because she's definitely light headed. All she can hear is "needs space… it's real… he loves you" over and over.

Now it's Alexis' turn to gape as Kate leaps to her feet, hugs Alexis and is gone in a swirl of leather. The Castle grin surfaces as she texts her grandmother: _Master, my work is done. _ Martha's response comes back immediately: _Good work grasshopper!_

Three days later she's standing at the window, looking at the spring rain glaze the city streets and coat the black cabs, marveling at how she got here, or rather, how they got here, as she didn't do it alone.

The echo is gone.

The river is the Thames.

The arms around her waist are real.

They are together; that is enough.


End file.
